


A Visit, A Demonstration, and A Little Gift

by alesca_munroe



Category: Unseen - Long Story Short Productions (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alesca_munroe/pseuds/alesca_munroe
Summary: Lady Sarkana gets a visitor.
Kudos: 2





	A Visit, A Demonstration, and A Little Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Just another excuse for unrelated characters to meet. I figured I needed to expand beyond just the LaValle family and Greerson

“We do not shrink nor show our bellies,” the Lady Sarkana lectures the young dragon before her. “We’re dragons. If someone is in our way, we eat them. It’s just that simple.”

“But the other species have accords with each other that are less brutal,” the young dragon starts to protest.

Fortunately for the young dragon and also for the carpet in this room, there’s a knock at the open doorway. The maid stands there. “My lady, you have a visitor,” she says. Unlike the sniveling thing trying to argue against their nature and traditions, the maid stands tall and unafraid. Properly wary of the Lady Sarkana, of course, perfectly respectful, but not reeking of fear.

Sarkana flicks her claws, dismissing the dragon in front of her. “Name?”

“Olive Hamby, my lady. Master hermeticist of the High Court Zecarion of the Kingdom of Annwyn Lis.“

Sarkana hums. A hermeticist with a human name from a fae kingdom. Colour her intrigued. “Bring her to the conservatory. I’ll be along shortly.”

Olive Hamby is pureblooded fae, all gleaming violet eyes, pointed teeth and ears, and that mildly ethereal look about them. She also wears a pair of slacks and a blouse that, while tidy enough, are clearly of human make. Her expression is that of someone who did not choose to be here.

“Lady Sarkana,” Olive says with a polite fae bow. Deep enough for someone of the Lady Sarkana’s prestige, but not so deep as to debase herself. Despite the human trappings of name and clothing, this fae was well-bred. “The High Court of  Zecarion, sovereign enclave of the Kingdom of Annwyn Lis, sends greetings and wishes for pleasant days.”

“May you and yours feed well and fully of your enemies’ blood,” Sarkana returns. It doesn’t translate very well from dragontongue, unfortunately, but the sentiment comes across. “What brings a hermeticist to my home?”

Olive gives a politely bland smile. “I have recently completed a project for the glory of the Kingdom. The High Court wishes to share their blessings and presents to the Lady Sarkana a gift in honor of the enduring-”

“Dispense with the formalities, hermeticist. It doesn’t suit you.” That, and dragons have little use for the pretty words of fae. The Lady Sarkana has eaten her fair share of fae who tried to beguile her with their twisting words. Not that dragons don’t have their own politics and intrigue, but the fae take it to a level that she has little time for.

Olive looks relieved. “Oh good, thanks. I’ve brought you a friendship gift, the hermetical formulas I used in the recent project. I can provide a demonstration.”

Sarkana takes the offered book. Leatherbound, words and formulae inked in a precise, stark hand. Definitely not the working copy, it’s too neat for that. Prudent. She flips through the pages. Sarkana is familiar with hermetics, though it isn’t her preferred form of magic. The level of expertise shown in this work… No wonder Olive Hamby refers to herself as a master hermeticist. Few outside of goblinkind could manage this.

“Yes, I think a demonstration will be in order. My maid will provide you with any materials you require.”

“No need,” Olive says, producing a satchel from behind a potted plant. “I made sure to bring my own materials. Crucible included.”

Sarkana appreciates the foresight. Olive doesn’t ask for the book back, just measures out and mixes from memory. She doesn’t pause once, working swiftly like someone confident in her abilities, but still makes certain Sarkana can see all her movements. It’s a proper demonstration, less of a show than a teaching moment. She sets a small dragon statue in the mix, drops a match on the whole thing. 

The dragon that had once been made of iron is now adamantine and lapis lazuli. Sarkana takes the offered statue, scrutinizing each shining scale, the sharp claws. “The third Lady Sarkana,” she muses and is pleased despite herself. The third was always her favourite, the one she emulates in unfamiliar circumstances. “You’ve made an incredible likeness.”

Olive smiles, toothy and sharp. Not a fae threat, just a human affectation. This fae has more than a handful of those. “Thank you.”

“Please pass my regards to the High Court of Zecarion.”

“I will.” Olive begins packing up her materials again.

“And… Miss Hamby.” Olive looks up. Sarkana gives her a smile, matching the meaning behind the fae’s own smile. Ensures her teeth don’t show-  _ that  _ would be a threat, even among her own kind. Sarkana still views eating those that would threaten her as the best and obvious course of action, but perhaps the sniveling thing from before had a point about different ways of doing business. As long as dragons don't forget what they are, of course. “Should you ever find yourself in my lands again, I would be interested in seeing more of your work.”

“I will remember that,” Olive promises and takes her leave.

Sarkana puts the statue in an alcove in her receiving room, and shifts into a less threatening form. It’s time to feed her pets.


End file.
